CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Reader’s Note: These are EXCERPTS from Joanne Swift’s Journal October 9^{th (}Sunday) 2016, after Taylor left with the Vulgus family to babysit. These vignettes are important to the overall story, but irrelevant details have been removed. Joanne kept an elaborate journal of everything she ate, wore, even the cleaning products she used, but it will only be included in this chapter if it is relevant to the story.

Joanne went about her day pretty much as she always did when no one was home.

It is believed Taylor did not keep a journal of her own during that week because her father took her phone after he made her write the sequence of events that led up to the decision to keep her in domestic discipline. However, there are some rumors that she did write down the details of some of these events from her perspective, and these are referred to as the “Lost Stories of Fart Face”.

October 9^th, 2016 – Sunday Night After the Vulgus Family Leaves with Taylor

Taylor’s absence was definitely noted in the family. We’d gone from sitting together on the couch, listening to Tom explain various aspects of Taylor’s new rules, and watching her be punished, to each of us doing our own individual things.

It was very quiet in the house when she was gone. Scotty’s friend Lanny came over after Donny and Taylor left with Mr. Vulgus for babysitting.

Scotty played video games in the den as they usually did when Lanny came over. He was surprised Taylor wasn’t here. He heard that Brandon had a date with Taylor and lamented why no one asked him if he wanted one.

“She’s the family pet, not the family whore,” Scotty reminded him.

Janie went to her room to play Barbies and later asked if she could spend the night at her friend’s house. Tom said she could if she Waterpicked her braces, cleaned up her room, and gave me a kiss. I thought that was very sweet of him to say, and naturally Janie had no problem planting a kiss on me!

Her friend’s mother came by to pick her up shortly after. I was kind of grateful that Taylor wasn’t home because Tom would have expected her to answer the door, and that would have been really hard to explain. I’m not even sure what the procedure will be in those cases, but right now, according to Tom, it would be business as usual; and the moment we start acting like it has to be hidden, then we probably have something to be ashamed of.

I was still shocked at how easily Dave and Betty had accepted our daughter’s nudity. I didn’t think Janie’s friend’s mom would feel the same. She was the typical soccer mom who drove a Volvo SUV – tight-laced and tight-assed.

Dave had obviously seen my daughter naked when she left her apron over at their house, because I remember her saying he offered her a towel and she refused because she was to wear the apron the entire weekend. I wondered if he thought we’d kept her naked after that incident.

I made a mental note to get that apron back – it was one of my favorites before Taylor wore it, and I loved how it flowed. I wasn’t sure I could wear it again for Tom without him thinking about our daughter, though.

Tom and I went up to Taylor’s room when she was gone and he told me to take down all her posters. He was surprised to see “Adventure Time” next to posters of the Cure and Peter Murphy.

“She listens to Bahaus?” Tom was impressed at our daughter’s music taste. I had never heard of them, but Tom clearly had.

“I think sometimes Fart Face just pretends to like certain bands, and others she actually likes-- she pretends to hate. In some cases it’s to look cool, and other times I think it’s a goof,” I said, telling him that for three months they all pretended to be huge Justin Bieber fans and even called themselves “Beliebers”. They would act like empty-headed teens and scream and wail over how hot he was.

I didn’t understand it, but it would make sense if you knew my daughter before the discipline.

“Do you think she’s goofing on us now? Pretending to benefit from this just to get one over on us?” Tom asked me.

“I don’t know, Sir,” I said. I’d actually suspected that she may be up to something, but there was no way to prove it. “If she IS up to something, then I don’t know what the payoff would be; and whatever her reason for trying hard and applying herself to the training with enthusiasm, I wouldn’t try to put a stop to it. She may end up learning something without even realizing it. I did when you first trained me!”

“Awww,” Tom leaned over and kissed me. I hoped he may take me right on Taylor’s bed. I was so horny I wouldn’t have stopped him. “You are so amazing, my love.” Tom said that he was so glad he did train me and that I learned something from it, adding, “You’re right. I shouldn’t overthink her motivation. I’m smarter than her. WE are smarter than her. If she thinks she’s being clever by embracing the change, then let her.”

That night we emptied her room of all posters and all her “stuff”. I was initially putting it in storage bins in the garage, but Tom told me just to throw it in the trash or give it to charity. “This is Taylor’s stuff. She doesn’t live here anymore. This is Fart Face’s room, and she’s lucky to have a room with a bed and a dresser in it.”

He asked me if she should get to keep her pink skull-and-crossbones comforter.

The image from the night before when she lay on top of it masturbating crept into my mind. It was a very erotic scene to walk in on her, in retrospect. I could very much picture the boys walking past her room and seeing her like that if I hadn’t been the one to catch her. I told Tom that it was going to get cold in a month or two; but I was really thinking it may be better if she plays with herself, that it be under covers.

I thought about removing her hairbrush, but if I took that she’d just find something else to stick between her legs when no one was watching. I felt guilty I didn’t tell Tom about it, but I didn’t want to make him angry.

“Right as always.” Tom kissed me lovingly. He had me store some of her makeup and more expensive things. We were trying to prove a point, but we aren’t wasteful. She could earn that stuff back when she wises up. We took all her panties and bras out of her room and put them in our room. Tom was surprised some of her lacy underthings were from Victoria’s Secret.

I should have at least come clean about how much money Taylor had spent ordering online, but I was enjoying my time with Tom going through Taylor’s stuff, and so I told myself I would tell him later about that and the masturbation, when the timing was better.

“Wow, look at this,” I said as I found something underneath a stack of Neil Gaiman graphic novels and some vintage 1950s-style pin-up calendars.

“You found her bong?” Tom was half-joking as he turned around to see what I’d found.

I chuckled. Taylor was a bitch, a liar, and a selfish brat, but I had all the confidence in the world she wasn’t interested in drugs or alcohol. I was sure I would have seen the signs of that.

“No, even better,” I pointed to what I’d found.

“Ooh, Betty Page pin-ups?” Tom picked up the calendar and checked out the vivacious dark-haired raven. “No wonder Taylor wasn’t all that shocked by the bondage aspects of discipline.”

I hadn’t even thought about that. Taylor had always loved the classic movie stars and pin-up girls like Jayne Mansfield, and I’d never made the connection with Betty Page when I saw her picture in Taylor’s room, because her image is on so many mainstream products as the devilish all-American girl-next-door. The same is true of Elvira, the dark mistress in black, who became so mainstream she’s on children’s decorations for Halloween.

“No, I meant to show you this,” I handed Tom a heavy book with Taylor Swift’s face on it.

The title read Taylor Swift – The Whole Story and it looked like it had been read cover to cover many times because the pages were dog-eared.

“That little bitch pretends she knows nothing about the singer, and she’s actually a closet fan?” Tom laughed hard at the irony of that. “I don’t know what’s going to be more embarrassing for the little cunt: the outfit I’ve picked out for her to wear tomorrow, or when I tell people she likes the singer Taylor Swift.”

I suggested we keep this under our hats for a while, and we removed the book along with every electronic device, decoration or luxury item, leaving only a bed and dresser.

Tom is very handy with tools, and also removed her door handle so that she couldn’t lock the door, but she could still close it.

I reminded him that she wasn’t allowed to close doors any longer without permission and Tom said that he wanted to leave it there as a temptation to see if she would do it anyway. “It’s easy not to hang yourself when you don’t have enough rope,” he smiled and whistled while he worked.

“Yes, but you are taking away her door handle though,” I said.

“You have a good point and there is a method to my madness,” Tom assured me that he’d thought this out. “This is not about surrounding her with temptation in order to see her fail. I am just leaving out a little crumb, and if she picks it up and eats I can correct it. I also don’t want her locking the door up here,” he said.

I pointed out there were a lot of other rooms upstairs that still had a lock, including the bathroom, but Tom just smiled and told me there was a method to his madness and to trust him. I did implicitly and he knew that – I was just curious.

“This is her center, like Sandor’s crate,” Tom explained that Sandor’s crate is his safe space because we make it like that. “We don’t send him there to punish him. We also don’t make it so he can open it anytime he wants either. This is basically the same thing, except in reverse. I’ve taken a little precaution with the doorknob, but she can still close the door if she is tempted; and that will help me assess if she is serious or jerking me around and needs additional training,” Tom said confidentially.

I was really pleased I had him to lead Taylor’s discipline because I would never have thought of things that way.

I cleaned up the house as I normally did, and when the kids learned they had to walk the dog because their sister was off babysitting, they actually complained. I warned Janie that she could be treated just like Taylor, and she straightened right up and walked Sandor without complaint.

I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea – to make threats I didn’t plan to actually follow through on if she kept on complaining – but whatever works.

[METICULOUS SECTION ABOUT EXACTLY WHAT SHE CLEANED, HOW SHE CLEANED AND HOW LONG IT TOOK HER PER TOM’S INSTRUCTIONS REMOVED. ]

That night we went to bed before she came home, and Tom fucked me hard. He fucked me from the front and the back and rode me like I was meant to be ridden. He fucked my tits, my mouth, and when he finally came in my mouth actually thanked me for the release.

“Thank you!! Masffther!” I was pretty good at talking with my mouth full. He needed a little rest after he came, and he held me tenderly and let me rest my head on his manly chest for a while. I needed that.

He didn’t allow me to swallow the cum, and made me open my mouth before letting me get dressed and escorting me downstairs so that he could watch me spit it into my almond milk carton. “I know what I’ll be having for breakfast tomorrow,” I smiled at him.

“Did you think Fart Face could benefit from something like that?” Tom asked, and then changed his mind. I was glad he did, because I shuddered at the thought of who we’d get to donate to her own personal milk carton. “I think the food-control plan we have is good enough,” he added.

“I agree, Sir. I’ve left the noodles out on the counter like you said,” I pointed to the shoe sitting out, but I was worried bugs may get in it.

“In Asia, bugs are considered a delicacy.” Tom told me that when he was overseas the people he stayed with would have cried to find out we poison ours with sprays. “Fat juicy roaches like that? Fry up nicely.” Tom said he learned to adapt overseas.

I shuddered at how disgusting that sounded. I ate cum on a regular basis, and I’d lick it off my fingers or the floor if Tom wanted, but somehow eating a bug, living or otherwise, totally grossed me out.

“Well, we are in America, Master.” I jokingly pointed out that we don’t eat bugs in America.

“Don’t remind me. I miss living abroad. Where I lived in China I could have marched you openly down to the village bare-ass and no one would have said a word,” Tom reminisced. I had heard his stories many times about this place and wasn’t sure it could exist.

It sounded like it was remote in the mountains someplace and in a region that still adhered to strict family traditions. “They have a tradition called Naohun that was developed back when there were so many arranged marriages. The brides and grooms were often much younger and usually discouraged from any sexual activity until marriage.”

Tom told me how the wedding guests are permitted to tease and even touch or kiss the bride and bridesmaids, and sometimes make the bride and groom do humiliating tasks.

I asked him how they made them do it and he told me that it was usually “with money”.

I laughed at the thought of that, but Tom explained it was very practical. “The rich uncle is giving some of the family money to the new bride and groom to start their life,” he said.

“The rich uncle who’s groping the bride at her own wedding, Sir?” I asked, cocking one eyebrow.

“Hey, your Uncle Jerome got a little handsy with you at ours!” Tom smiled.

Tom wasn’t jealous at all – he didn’t have any reason to be. He knew he owned me completely, body and soul. However, he would have knocked my Uncle Jerome into next week if I’d said I couldn’t handle it.

My uncle had always been a little bit of a pervert with me when I was a teenager, as soon as I developed big tits. I didn’t really think it was all that weird at the time, because my chest balloons were always bouncing off people and getting touched or groped in tight spaces anyway.

Tom said that the difference was this was out in the open and everyone at the wedding knew the game that would be played. “They line up in front of the bride and bring her a gift and then, for that one day only, touch her boobs or look under her skirt or give her a kiss. The idea was that it would encourage the two newlywed love-birds to try those things with each other, but it was also kind of just good fun. You have to understand their culture is a little different from ours.”

[LONG SECTION ABOUT WHAT TOM LEARNED FROM ASIAN CULTURE AND TOM’S BACKGROUND REMOVED FROM THE STORY]

Tom texted Taylor every now and then to check on her and let her know when she could piss and shit. She seemed to be doing fine, according to him. WE didn’t always agree on politics, and we chose a long time ago never to discuss them. The election that was coming up was weighing on everyone’s mind.

“So what do you think Trump’s chances actually are?” Tom asked as he sipped some fresh coffee I’d just made for him.

[INTELLIGENT, BUT BORING, TOPICAL DISCUSSION ABOUT POLITICS, RELIGION AND CURRENT EVENTS REMOVED FROM THE STORY]

“Wow, we’ve been talking for hours,” Tom laughed, and I enjoyed that we could really spend so much time confiding with each other and discussing things rationally.

I heard a knock at the back door and I assumed it was Taylor. I went to check and there she was, waiting at the door, completely naked with only the wrist cuffs, dog collar, and high heels. She had the apron I sent her in folded and was standing next to her brother Donny.

“Donny, you have a house key.” Tom told him he could come in through the front door.

“Yes, but you said to watch Fart Face, so I watched her,” Donny said.

“Good job.” Tom looked the two of them up and down and made her come inside so that he could inspect her. He asked his son for a report on Taylor’s behavior.

It really pleased Donny to be asked to tell on his sister. We had always discouraged our kids from being tattletales on one another. That’s really just something of a necessity when you have four kids and they’re little, because they’ll get into retaliatory battles of telling on each other, and no one really likes a snitch. It may sound like we were apathetic parents, but we kept a close eye on them and so we knew what they were really up to.

We also always told them to come to us with very important stuff – ‘stranger danger’ or if someone was getting hurt – but we didn’t want them to give us a detailed listing of all the petty little shit they did to one another.

“I want all the details.” Tom told Donny to essentially give him a complete accounting of all the petty little shit that Taylor may have done tonight while babysitting.

“I wish I could say she majorly fucked up or was rude so I could watch you spank her ass.” Donny smirked at his sister’s misfortune to be in this position.

Taylor glared over at him with a look that suggested she was moving him up the imaginary list she’s kept in her head since 5^th grade, of people she would get revenge on. I knew all about that list because she used to tell me where I fit on it when I made her do chores back then.

“Yet I really can’t say that she deserves punishment. She was respectful and well-behaved and the Vulgus’s were happy enough to give us 80 bucks for tonight because the kids we babysat didn’t destroy the room we were in.” Donny admitted reluctantly that his sister had actually been good for a change.

“Dave gave you 80 bucks?” Tom saw Donny handling four twenty dollar bills. “Was it for something Taylor did in particular?” My husband was skeptical and I think a little concerned he may have paid for something sexual.

“Nah, his wife made him give it to us. They knew we would split twenty bucks each, and they wanted Fart Face to get at least twenty of it,” Donny said of his sister.

“Did she tell the kids she babysat that her name was Fart Face?” Tom asked curiously.

“Actually, she did, and they thought it was funny as shit!” Donny smiled.

“Okay, Donny, you can go to bed. I appreciate you doing this tonight. I may have to ask you to do it again if Dave is going to let her babysit again.” Tom thanked him for his help tonight, but suggested he go catch a little sleep.

“Yeah, no problem, but if it’s okay with you I wanted to watch you inspect her,” Donny said. Taylor glared at him again but didn’t protest.

“Why’s that?” Tom folded his arms across his chest.

“Well, you said that everything would be done out in the open,” Donny reminded him.

“I did say it would be done out in the open, and I plan to do just that and inspect your sister in the living room. I didn’t say that you’d be allowed to stay up way past your bedtime on a school night, but neither of the things I said answer my question about why you want to watch her inspection.” Tom’s stare could be quite intimidating, and he was doing it to Donny.

I thought Donny would just run up to his room, but he smiled and said that he wanted to find out what he actually looked for in an inspection. “Are you searching to see if she has some hidden money on her? Or to see if she snuck a Snickers bar up her butt into her room or something? I mean, she’s naked. What could she be hiding?”

Tom nodded his head and said that was a good answer. “If you want to watch just to see your sister naked, that would be a different story,” Tom said.

“Meh,” Donny shrugged and plopped himself on the couch in the living room. “I’ve seen her naked all day. It’s nothing special.”

The look on Taylor’s face was spectacular. I wish I had a camera to capture that reaction, because I’ll never forget how her brow knotted and she genuinely looked insulted – and at the same time, relieved. Insulted because she must have thought who was Donny to say her bare body was ‘Meh’? And relieved because her brother didn’t actually care if she was naked or not.

Tom ordered Taylor to stand in the Inspection position. That’s the same as the Punishment position, bent over, except hands lifting the bottom of her ass cheeks and pulling apart. He reminded her that her mouth is to remain open with her tongue sticking out, unless she’s answering one of his questions.

“Is your name Kylie Jenner?” Tom asked.

“No, Master,” Taylor said “It’s Fart Face Swift now.”

“Oh, you’re a member of the Swift family now, are ya? What’s your position in that family?” Tom asked.

“I’m the Family Pet now, Master,” Taylor said. She looked tired, like she’d been run through the wringer with those kids, but she answered crisply.

“Do you secretly love Taylor Swift’s music?” Tom asked with a playful grin.

Taylor looked over her shoulder in disbelief. She could be amazingly sexy when she did that. I made a mental note to do that to Tom the next time he asked me a question if I could, because the pose was highly erotic.

“No, Sir.” Taylor gritted her teeth.

Tom didn’t pursue that line of questioning further. He pulled her plug out slightly and pushed it back in. “How many times did you shit while you were out of the house?” he asked her bluntly.

Taylor clearly didn’t see any need for that level of detail and looked hesitant to answer. Tom smacked her on the ass hard and told her that she was not to hesitate to be honest.

“Once, Master? May I ask why you care about that?” she asked.

“You’re wearing MY butt plug. You are not walking around this house carrying a sack of shit inside that ass. If I need to make you squat and empty your asshole tonight before bed, I’d like to know.” Tom asked if she had to shit now.

“I don’t have to use the bathroom, Master,” Taylor told him.

Tom turned her ass pink on the left side with another swat and said that he used the bathroom. “I am a gentleman, entitled to privacy. You are a house-pet, and house-pets shit and piss like the vulgar little beasts they are.” Tom told her to learn the difference immediately.

“I don’t have to shit or piss, Master.” Taylor looked defeated. She’d been doing so well in changing her behavior lately, but she was still new to all of this. I think it was easy to be harsh on her because she could be such a brat, and honestly, she kind of needed tough love. But at the same time it was easy to expect more from her because she’d been so willing to jump right into obedience training.

Tom pulled the plug out and stuck it in her mouth roughly. “Clean, bitch.” He grabbed her by her long black hair and pulled her head up with one hand while sticking a finger in her asshole and wriggling it around.

Taylor resisted and bucked against his hand instinctively in protest. He slapped her face with the hand he was using to hold her hair and she stopped struggling. “This is no game.” Tom warned her not to resist him. “I’m inspecting your dirty asshole not because it amuses me, but for your own good. If you’re going to be plugged, that’s something you have to get used to. Your asshole is going to be corked and packed tightly all of the time from now on; if that’s something you cannot handle, then you need to tell me now!”

Taylor started crying and screamed at her father. “Why do you have to be so mean!?!”

I didn’t expect her to lash out at him and neither did Tom. He didn’t flinch away when she turned around and slid off his finger. She began beating on his chest and crying, and then hugged him once he was able to grab both of her wrists. Snot was running down her nose.

“Oh, Dad, I’m so sorry, I’m just so tired and exhausted.” She was blubbering.

Donny looked disappointed. He hadn’t expected this drama, and I was hoping he would leave, but he kept watching.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Tom calmed her and shushed her.

In BDSM play there is something called “after care” that’s sort of an unwritten expectation amongst dominant couples that play rough. After an intense session where sweat and tears mix with pussy juices from all the whipping and humiliations, the Dominant will lay you down under a blanket and massage and cuddle with you.

Tom had done it many times with not only me but other women he trained in public dungeons. There was nothing overly sexual about it. You weren’t supposed to get finger-fucked – at most you would spoon and nuzzle each other. Tom has very powerful shoulders and rugged good looks, so a lot of women at those clubs I think would let him tie them up and whip them just to experience a little ‘after care’ with my man.

I found it to be hot and validating that so many women wanted what I had. BDSM groups can be political and catty as jealousy and rivalry emerges. I wouldn’t have begrudged even the cattiest man-stealing slut at the dungeon after-care with Tom, because I knew he was mine and he was sharing tenderness with them in equal measure to the roughness he showed them.

Yet here I stood, feeling quite conflicted because I knew what Taylor needed – she needed after-care, and I didn’t feel comfortable suggesting her father provide it.

“I think she needs some after-care, Tom,” I found myself saying almost involuntarily.

Tom looked over at me while he held Taylor in his arms, and then back at the sobbing mess in his hands.

“Well, uh,” Tom stuttered. This is a man with a silver tongue who’s seldom at a loss for words, and he wasn’t sure how to respond to that.

“What is ‘after care’?” Donny asked calmly, as if he were watching a science experiment.

“It’s what I’m doing,” Tom said as he nuzzled her hair under his chin and held her tightly. “Taylor, I love you. I’m only rough on you because I believe in you. I’m not doing this to be mean or to get my jollies. You know that, right?” he asked her softly once the sobbing subsided.

“I know, Master,” Taylor sniffed. Her pretty button nose was red from crying.

“You can call me ‘Dad’ right now, if you want,” Tom gave her permission.

“Are you going to make me stop doing the training?” Taylor looked up at her father with red eyes. “You think I can’t handle discipline?”

“No, no, no.” He assured her calmly that he was only giving her temporary permission to call him ‘Dad’. “You’ve had a long and hard day. I know it’s been rough on you and shocking. You’ve been through a lot, and you’ve learned a lot. I’m actually proud of you. I think because you’ve been doing so good, I treated you like someone who’s come much further, and held you to a higher standard than you were probably capable of,” Tom said.

Taylor started boo-hooing again, and when Tom asked her what she was crying about, she said through the tears in her eyes, “You’ve never held me to a high standard, Dad. You’ve always let me slide through. This was the FIRST time you actually expected me to be perfect and held me accountable, and I can’t even do this right. Now you think I’m just a stupid little girl,” she sobbed.

“Why is it so important for you to be held to a high standard?” Tom asked in his inquisitive manner where he asks questions that really make you reach for the answer.

“I want to prove I can handle the training and I’m willing to change!” Taylor pouted, and before Tom could agree she added, “I want to be like Mom!”

I was puzzled. She’d never given me the slightest inkling she thought all that much about me or wanted to be like me. We butted heads all of the time, and she usually acted like my interests were backwards and antiquated.

“She’s sweet, loving, caring, puts others before her own needs, she cleans all our messes without complaint, she cares about the EARTH and recycling, and she volunteers her time.” Taylor was right, I did, but I was wired this way. It was no special sacrifice for me to be like that.

“She feels no need for any special recognition.” Taylor pointed at me and said, “See? Even now she’s standing there like ‘why is being all of that such a big deal?’ It just comes natural to her. It doesn’t to ME! I’m a rude, obnoxious asshole, and I’ve been a brat all of my life. You let me be one because you thought you were doing me a favor, but now I can’t change without being squeezed and stretched. I asked you to discipline me so that I could learn to be HALF the woman she is, but now I can’t stop crying and I don’t know why!!” She was bawling on her dad’s chest.

I couldn’t take this anymore. I came in for a group hug and held my daughter and husband in my arms.

Donny hadn’t been mentioned, but he couldn’t resist joining in either. It was actually great for the four of us to stand there hugging, even though Taylor was completely naked.

“Shhh..shhhh,” Tom calmed her down and said that he knew why and it was alright. “You’re trying in one day to become a woman that it took your mother forty years to grow into.” Tom assured her that was alright. “You’ve had an intense emotional journey. You’ve had more epiphanies in one day than you probably have had in your entire life, and you’ve been exposed, plucked, tied up and poked. You’re crying because you’ve reached a point where you’re all wound up and probably wanted to punch me in the face for sticking my finger up your ass.” Tom was trying to interject some levity into the conversation and keep himself from choking up. He was very proud of her.

“No, not at all.” Taylor said that she was confused by the feelings she was having. “It wasn’t anything to do with you inspecting my asshole. I was starting to feel sad that I hadn’t really changed at all. That I felt like I was just faking being nice and compliant, and inside I was still this raging, furious, bitch; and that if you let me out of it tomorrow I’d just go back to my old ways and I’m incapable of controlling that. I don’t like being out of control!”

Tom said he understood more than she knew.

This was also a very touching moment for me, one that was full of emotional turmoil because I understood what Taylor was saying more than she probably knew. There was a time when I was frustrated and overwrought with guilt that I shouldn’t be doing kinky things with my husband and I wanted him to just love me, not beat me. I was afraid of so many things, but mostly that if I stopped training, then Tom would be disappointed in me. What he did and said after that made me want to marry him.

The family hug was emotionally draining and satisfying at the same time. I felt like I’d been the one crying when it was all said and done.

“Are you going to punish me because I cried and punched you?” Taylor asked with a pout as the tears subsided.

“No, but you were right. You’re not to call me ‘Dad’ again until I release you from your discipline, and I haven’t,” Tom said with a kind expression while he looked down into her pretty blue eyes. She gets those eyes from her father, and they can wound you just as easily as they can fill you with joy, depending on how they look at you with them.

“You won’t release me until I’m half the woman Mom is, Master?” Taylor pouted.

“That’s a tall order, Fart Face.” Tom wasn’t at a loss for words this time. “How about I first get you to stop being a whiny brat, and then we’ll see how far you have to go to be a classy woman like her? Now get upstairs and get to bed.” Tom slapped her butt hard and told her that she would learn to shave her pussy tomorrow after school.

“My cunt, Sir,” Taylor corrected as she ran up the stairs as fast as she could in high heels.

Tom looked at me and smiled with pride.

We expected Taylor to be having a shit-fit when we followed her upstairs and she saw her room. Donny followed us like an enthusiastic puppy, even though he didn’t know Tom and I had pared down Taylor’s room to just the essentials.

“Oh my Gawd!” Taylor was standing naked in stunned silence.

Gone was the police tape, ‘Keep Out’ signs, and band posters that made up the bulk of her room decor.

“We thought ‘keep out’ wasn’t very inviting, so we took those signs down,” Tom said as he stood in the doorway.

The door handle had been removed so she couldn’t lock the door any longer and blast her music on her headphones while brooding.

“You weren’t kidding when you said there would be changes, Master.” It seemed from the look on Taylor’s face it was suddenly dawning on her that this was much more than just being naked and talking differently, and that the lessons we were going to teach her were going to be uncomfortable at best.

“You’re lucky to have a room.” Tom said that he’d thought about putting her out in the backyard. “Once the weather turns a little colder then there won’t be many bugs or mosquitos out there.” He was trying to get her goat.

I thought it was strange to pressure her after such an emotional epiphany downstairs, but I trusted Tom’s judgment.

“I don’t mind what you did to my room, Sir, and I understand why you did it. I was getting too old for some of that stuff anyway.” She sounded as if she was trying to convince herself as much as us. “I’ll get it all back though when I finish this training, so it’s all cool.” She laid flat on the bed.

“First of all, you never lay on the bed in our presence. If we’re standing, you’re standing.” Tom insisted she get her lazy ass back up. “Secondly, your concern for your material possessions is irrelevant. You are a possession now of the house, so you cannot OWN anything. You should be glad we’re allowing you to use that bed to sleep and that butt-plug to train your ass. You could have fallen on your knees and been thankful we allowed you to have the things you do in here and a room at all.” Tom shut the door abruptly before the pouting girl could respond and told her “Good night!”

He effectively shut her down before she could vent or protest or even agree with him. He was showing her that when he was done talking – the conversation was over.

I loved that about my husband.